


Untitled II

by duffmansean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duffmansean/pseuds/duffmansean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's Dean. And there's Sam. And there's all the tiny moments between them.</p><p>(Blink-and-you-miss-it Wincest)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled II

He’s the loud one.  The horny one.  The risk taker.  The stupid-but-adorable-enough-that-it-doesn’t-matter one.  He’s the one that will (ultimately, eventually,  _finally_ ) die from a heart attack (brought on by too many cheeseburgers and not enough salad), instead of Hounds, or Angels, or Demons, or any of the ugly, evil, belly-to-the-ground supernatural pieces of crap he’d been squashing his whole life.  He’s the one who drinks more, fucks more, and curses more.  He’s the one who doesn’t do chick-flick moments.  He’s the one who would rather crack a pathetic joke instead of admit that he might be just a little upset.  He’s the older brother and he intends on acting like it.  

So it’s really nice, in these tiny moments, when Dean can let all that go (if only for a minute or two).  It’s the silences that fall inside the Impala, Skynyrd banging out another awesome guitar rift beneath the rumble of the engine.  It’s the stillness that falls through a haunted building after they’ve ganked another evil bitch.  It’s the warm afterglow he and Sam share late at night (or sometimes early in the morning).  It’s the sweet lullaby of Sam’s breathing right before he drifts off to sleep, too.  It’s all these moments and more that take the metaphorical weight off Dean’s shoulders and he can feel the knot of his insides loosen and maybe even unravel.  

Sam always wants to talk things out, express himself, share their feelings.  But when they just finished a hunt, with cheap coffee and home-style diner food heavy in their stomachs, the open road stretched out in front of his baby’s grill--words seem to fall short.  How do you express the way something so simple as riding in the car with your brother; or listening to his heartbeat slowly fade back to a slow, steady, sex-sated rhythm; or the warmth of his body pressed up against Dean as they use each other’s support to get back to the car; or the peaceful comfort of knowing his baby brother’s right there in the bed across from his, not two feet away.  How do you express the way one person, in all their ugly quirks and beautiful faults, can make everything feel like it’s gonna be ok?


End file.
